Whiskey and Jager
by dinofossil
Summary: Warning contains spanking of an adult. If this offends do not read. Sam struggles to come to terms with the possibility he might turn evil, and Dean helps him work it through. Set after playthings. Spoilers for Season 2.


**Title**: Whiskey and Jager  
**Author**: Dinofossil  
**Author's Notes/Warnings**: Warnings for season 2. Simon Said, Hunted & Playthings. Story set after Playthings. Some minor swearing and of spanking of an adult.  
**Disclaimer**: Don't own any of the characters. They belong to Eric Kripke, and the CW, and anyone else I am unaware of. Not making any money from this either.

The Impala pushed its way effortlessly through grey pockets of fine misty rain as Sam and Dean made their way out of Connecticut, gradually building up the miles between themselves and the hotel they'd left behind. The atmosphere was as dark and moody on the inside of the car as it was on the outside, as the brothers battled with their troubled thoughts, both trying to make sense of the last few days.

The fact he'd managed to save the young girl and her mother back at the hotel did nothing to ease Sam's guilt, as he harshly berated himself for the death of poor old Grandma Rose and the unfortunate guest who'd hung himself. '_Hell…, while he was doing such a good job at dishing out blame, why not throw in the disappearance of__ Ava__ too_.' That must surely be linked to him; coincidence was not a word that sat comfortably in Sam's vocabulary.

Sitting behind the wheel of the car beside him, the overriding concern for Dean was the stupid promise that Sam had practically forced him into making, just so that he could silence his brothers alcohol soaked ramblings long enough to get him to bed.

It wasn't the promise itself that disturbed him most, but the discovery that Sam had been torturing himself in the belief that he was somehow capable of turning evil. Frustrated at not picking up on this sooner, Dean made up his mind to talk it through with him later; after all, Sam had been drunk when he'd tried to reason with him the previous night.

'_Oh yeah…! Drunk while working a case_.' He was sure that would also be figuring somewhere in his discussion.

Taking his eyes off the road for a second, he glanced over to check his unusually silent brother. A frown formed as he watched Sam hunched low in his seat, eyes staring vacantly ahead, teeth unconsciously gnawing away at his bottom lip.

'_Crap, this does not look good_' he thought grimly. Trying to put a stop to this self-destructive behaviour, he borrowed one of his brothers' legendary huffy sighs, and loudly vocalised his annoyance.

"What?" the sigh had worked its way into Sam's thoughts, and he gave his brother a questioning stare.

"Oh, so glad you could join me. Where have you been for the last hour emo boy?"

"Thinking," Sam softly replied.

"Let me guess…, Ava, Granny Rose?

The question hovered unanswered, but that didn't matter, Dean knew exactly what was eating away at Sam. As the silence between them stretched once again, he could sense the barriers going back up.

The car swerved slightly as he angrily slapped the wheel with both hands. "_Okay! That's it_; we're stopping for the night." Ignoring his brothers' dropped jaw look of surprise, he pressed his foot down increasing the speed towards the nearest town.

xxxxxxxxxx

A cheap roadside motel was easily found in the town, and after unpacking their bags and settling themselves in the cramped and shabby room, Dean went in search for something to eat.

Returning with food, Dean desperately hoped Sam had forgotten to unpack his moodiness from the car, but was dismayed to find his attempts at conversation being sabotaged by his brother's continued unwillingness to talk.

Abandoning his efforts, Dean completed the meal in silence, while Sam sat and toyed with the uneaten food before him.

Leaving his brother sitting at the table, Dean cleared away his wrappings, pausing momentarily when he caught sight of the untouched food. His face creased with concern as he remembered Sam taking off in the middle of the night the last time he'd been like this, and almost getting himself killed by that psycho Gordon. He could easily see this latest episode heading in the same direction unless he fixed it.

He ran his hands through his hair, rubbing the back of his head to try and relieve some of the tension he could feel building. '_This is going to be a long night_' he thought moodily.

Dropping on his bed, he propped himself up with pillows as thin as wafers, and curiously watched his brother playing at statues. Apart from the movement from his breathing, there were no other visible signs of life from him.

"Sammy"

There was no response.

"SAM"

His brother sighed, wishing Dean would just leave him alone. "There's nothing you can say to make me feel better, so just drop it".

"Well that's just tough, because you're going to tell me what's bothering you, so why don't you get your hormones out of your handbag and get talking."

"You want me to talk? Okay, Dean, two words. _Screw_ _you_."

The hurt that spread on his brothers' face made Sam immediately regret his harsh words, softening his tone he apologised. "Sorry, I know you're trying to help, but really, I'm okay. Why don't you go for a drink, or maybe shoot some pool?"

"What…, leave you alone to sit and sulk? You look just about ready to stab yourself, so no, not gonna happen."

"Fine, but you know what you're like? You'll be climbing the walls with boredom."

"Maybe, but at least I won't look like the poster boy for Prozac."

Shaking his head, Sam grabbed a book from his bag and flopped messily on his bed to signal that the conversation was over.

"_Oh no, you don't_!" Dean growled.

Springing from his bed, Dean reached his brother in one angry stride, and grabbing a fistful of shirt; he hauled him up and marched him backwards towards the chair. Overbalanced by the force on his chest, the loudly protesting younger man was forced to sit with a loud thump.

Fetching another chair, Dean placed it in front of his brother and sat down with a menacing look that kept Sam firmly glued to his own seat.

"Right, we're gonna sit here 'til this is sorted, so start talking."

To Dean's amazement, Sam shook his head and rebelliously clamped his mouth shut."

For an eternity they sat and glared at each other in determined silence. Both knew they could place bets on Dean being the first to crack, and he was. With a small sheepish smile that Sam couldn't help but mirror, Dean broke his silence.

"Look we can sit here and play 'first to blink' all night, or you can let me help you. What do you say?"

"Already told you, I'm not discussing this."

"Sam, I love you, and I'm not going to let you carry on hurting yourself. This not talking thing you got going is not an option, so stop acting like a stupid brat."

Sam sat back in his chair and smirked sarcastically. "Or what…, you'll spank me?" he goaded.

"That's the most constructive thing you've said all evening. I think I will."

xxxxxxxxxx

Before Sam had time to react, Dean reached forward and took a firm hold of his arm, pulling him closer.

Sam desperately waved the plaster cast on his free arm under Dean's nose and whined. "Dude, you wouldn't hit someone with a broken arm would you? Cos that would be unfair."

Dean paused, "Going to spank your ass, not your arm, so drop your jeans now or I'll drop them for you."

It was a long time since Sam had been spanked, and he stubbornly believed he was big enough to tough it out. It might at least stop Dean being so pissed at him, and leave him alone.

Fumbling with his jeans he unfastened them, cringing as he felt them slide further south than he intended, all the way down to his ankles. '_Terrific,_' he thought, '_could this get any worse?_' A tugging at the waistband of his boxers made him freeze and his eyes widen with shock '_Yep, there we go. Just got worse.'_

Dean pulled at Sam's arm and forcefully guided him over his lap, making sure that his broken arm was well out of the way as he moved. He wrapped his left arm around his brother's waist, anchoring him securely to his own body for support.

Raising his hand, he brought it down hard on to the centre of Sam's backside. The noise of flesh striking bare flesh was clearly louder than expected, and they both jumped in shock. Even in his vulnerable and painful position this amused Sam, and he quietly smiled at this rare glimpse into his big brothers softer side.

Recovering, Dean started a series of hard slaps, covering every inch of Sam's bottom, turning it a deep shade of pink. At first Sam endured the slaps silently, but as they continued to fall on his tender backside, he started to grunt and struggle against Dean's hold.

"Right little brother, Firstly dad was a bit OCD about writing in his journal, if he'd found anything suggesting you were going to go dark side, don't ya think it would be in there?" he punctuated himself with a steady stream of swats.

"Secondly, just because you're psychic, doesn't automatically make you an evil killer. Ava or Andy Gallagher weren't either, so there's no set pattern to this. I've watched you sit and bawl your way through Bambi and Dumbo, you're not evil, Sam.

Crying in pain, Sam squirmed uncomfortably and pleaded with his brother. "_Owww!_ Please, Dean, _Argh!_ Enough, _Nooo!_

"Thirdly, it's not your job to save everyone. You're not superman; you can't be everywhere."

By now he could feel Sam shake in his lap, as he drew quick rasping breaths of air to fuel his sobbing. Dean stopped swatting, allowing him time to get his breath back.

"Fourthly, I will do anything to save you, always have, always will, so you're not alone in this."

"Fifthly…," he paused, "well…, actually…, there isn't a fifthly. But if there was, it would be that I am an awesome brother, and if there is even a hint of you turning evil, I will set light to your ass so badly it'll attract moths for weeks, understand?"

"O-okay," the voice was so tiny it stopped Dean in his tracks. "I'm s-sorry for worrying you, and I'm sorry I made you promise to kill me, I was just freaked out at the time."

"I forgive you, but we've still got one last thing to deal with." Dean said harshly.

"What, Dean?" Sam sniffed, genuinely puzzled.

Hating himself, Dean resumed his hard slaps, aiming for the tender tops of Sam's thighs, causing his brother to kick his legs and cry even louder.

"Don't you _EVER_ get drunk on a case again, what would you have done if the spirit had come after you, or me? Cos the last time I checked, Whiskey and Jager breath are not as effective as rock salt."

He felt Sam tense with pain, and the cries grew so loud, he had to raise his own voice to be heard. "And if you don't understand that, let me put it another way for you, you acted like a _STUPID IDIOT_."

"Your right, I did, and I'm sorry," Sam snuffled with misery, "it won't happen again. Ever."

He stopped; deciding he'd made his point, and gently rubbed Sam's back for a few moments. "Okay buddy, it's all over, you can get up now."

He helped Sam up, and waited while his boxers and jeans were pulled back into place. Flashing an encouraging smile, he stood with open arms and braced himself for the collision as Sam accepted the invite to hug.

Around the mid-hug point, Sam apologised again. "Dean, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Dean reassured him, "it's dealt with, you've nothing to be sorry for."

"No Dean, I'm sorry that you're still bossy…and short."

The End


End file.
